


Nicotine Stain

by finkpishnets (orphan_account)



Category: X Factor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-28
Updated: 2010-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Aiden’s toes curl against the gravel of his driveway, the pain sharp as it sticks to his skin, and he doesn’t care, sees it more than he feels it, and that’s okay. That means he’s still drunk, and that’s fine. As long as he doesn’t wake up his parents.</i> Seventies AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicotine Stain

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a [ficmix](http://ivoryxandxgold.livejournal.com/28671.html) over at eljay, posted here without the track list. For the au_bingo prompt "historical: author's choice".

Aiden’s toes curl against the gravel of his driveway, the pain sharp as it sticks to his skin, and he doesn’t care, sees it more than he feels it, and that’s okay. That means he’s still drunk, and that’s fine. As long as he doesn’t wake up his parents.

He shuts the door quietly, drops his shoes into the hallway cupboard and skips over the squeaky third step on his way up, grabbing onto the banister when his head spins. 

His door’s shut, an empty attempt at convincing his parents he didn’t jump out his bedroom window as soon as they fell asleep; they don’t buy it but they’ve stopped asking. Maybe they’re tired or maybe they just don’t care anymore, and that should probably make him feel something but the alcohol’s still thrumming through his veins and he can’t find the energy when he’s _sober_ let alone now when his body’s as numb as his mind.

He kicks back his blankets and crawls underneath still fully clothed. There’s kohl smudged around his eyes, rubbing off onto the pillow, and as he falls asleep he wonders what shapes it’ll have made by morning.

 

+

 

It’s still early and Aiden’s only on his third beer, laughing and dancing and feeling alive as the sound of Zeppelin fills the room. Louis and Liam are by the bar, heads bent too close, but no one cares, not here, not now, and Aiden throws them a smile and a wave and continues moving.

He’s not dancing alone because _everyone’s_ dancing alone so really they’re all together, and that’s the way it should be. There’s a girl with blue streaks in her hair falling against his arm and a guy without a shirt giggling in his ear, and Aiden loves it, really does.

There’s a guy near the stage moving guitar stands, and he looks up and catches Aiden’s eye. He’s attractive; not in the way most people on the scene are with their make-up and their ripped clothes and their attitudes, but there’s still something about him that makes Aiden pause.

The guy smiles, just a tug of the lips, and Aiden laughs, throws his head back and keeps dancing, his eyes never leaving the stage.

 

+

 

“Hi,” he says, and Aiden smiles, leans closer than necessary and watches the way his mouth forms the words. “I’m Matt.”

“Hi,” Aiden says, and he doesn’t offer his own name, thinks of calling himself a thousand things – James, Michael, Jimmy, Roy – but ends up staying silent. This way he can be anyone the world wants him to be; no promises, just lies.

There’s an awkward pause, the sort that Aiden loves and hates all at once, and then the guy’s shaking it off, grinning and offering to buy him a drink and Aiden nods, letting himself be pulled through the crowd.

“So,” Matt says, handing over a beer, “You’re not going to tell me your name?”

Aiden laughs and shakes his head, brings the rim of the bottle to his lips, the glass cold against the heat of his skin, and watches Matt through hooded eyes.

“Is that an invitation to call you whatever I want?” Matt asks, and the smile on his lips is as dirty as Aiden had hoped it’d be.

“Who says you have to call me anything at all?” he asks. “Silence is much better.”

Matt laughs, his head dropping back a little so Aiden can see the line of his throat, the top of his collarbone. 

“Come on,” Matt says eventually, and Aiden’s toes curl inside his boots at the possibilities. 

 

+

 

Dawn’s already spreading across the London skies as Aiden walks home, Matt left sleeping with an arm thrown over a pillow instead of a body, and he takes his time, cataloguing every pull of his muscles and trying to build a puzzle from blurry pieces.

He can feel the phantom shapes of fingers digging into his hips, still taste beer and cigarettes and salty skin, sense the pressure of Matt’s body on top of him, and even with the beginnings of a familiar headache the ache is still satisfying.

He has to be at school in a couple of hours, should probably shower and change so he at least looks a little bit less _night before_ and more _upstanding student_ , but he slows down anyway, kicks his feet against the pavement and tries to remember what it felt like to care what people thought of him.

 

+

 

It’s been a good night; the band were fantastic, just the right amount of fun and cocky to have the room buzzing, and they should be going home, all have a maths exam in the morning that they’re not even a little bit prepared for, but Niall had protested starvation so now they’re shelling out for kebabs. 

Louis and Harry are messing around with the ketchup bottles and they’re pretty enough that the waitress just rolls her eyes good-naturedly and tells them to stop being such “naughty boys” when the chime on the door rings and someone else walks in.

A familiar someone else.

A very familiar someone else whose handprints are still embedded into Aiden’s hips.

“Hello love,” the waitress says with a smile, “let me just pop the kettle on.”

“Cheers Maggie,” Matt says, casually, and then he looks up and meets Aiden’s eyes and freezes. “Um,” he says eventually, when even Louis’ started paying attention, “hi.”

“Hi,” Aiden says, and he hates the fact that he can feel his skin heating up.

“You hungry?” ‘Maggie’ says, coming back into the room.

“No,” Matt says, turning back to her, “nah, I’m fine.”

Maggie scoffs. “You don’t eat enough young man.”

Matt smiles, and it’s sweet and fond and natural and makes something in Aiden’s chest clinch.

Someone calls Maggie back to the kitchen and Aiden’s aware of how intensely weird this is.

“Were you at the club tonight?” he asks eventually when the silence has become stifling. “I didn’t see you.”

“Oh,” Matt says, “no. I was working. Just got off.”

“Right,” Aiden says, and Liam takes pity on him, declaring himself done and they ‘should get going, yeah?’

Aiden feels like he should say something – apologise for leaving without a goodbye or for how drunk he was – but instead he’s asking “Will you be there tomorrow night?” before he can stop himself.

Matt shrugs. “Maybe.”

Aiden nods and walks to the door, fingers on the handle before he turns ‘round and says “Aiden.”

Matt looks at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before he smiles, chuckling slightly under his breath.

“It’s nice to meet you Aiden,” he says and Aiden grins. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The boys grill him all the way home, but that’s okay; he’s pretty good at keeping quiet.

 

+

 

Matt’s standing outside the club waiting for him, leaning against the wall as he lights a cigarette, and he grabs another one when he spots Aiden and passes it over.

“Hi,” Aiden says, and Matt breathes smoke into the air between them before he smiles.

“Hey.”

Aiden feels awkward, too sober and too exposed, but Matt’s not looking at him any differently so he forces himself to relax and wonders how this one guy has the ability to put dents in his carefully built walls. 

The cigarette feels like a lifeline and the smoke in his lungs gives him back a little control, takes off some of the edge even with Matt watching him like he knows exactly what’s going through his head.

“Ready to go in?” Matt asks and Aiden nods, taking one last drag before crushing the cigarette beneath his heel.

He stands too close to Matt as they walk inside but Matt doesn’t say anything, just rests his hand on Aiden’s arm, and it’s an anchor Aiden’s never needed before.

 

+

 

Matt doesn’t turn on the light, just kisses him to the sound of the door clicking shut behind them, and Aiden sighs against his lips, _feeling_ in a way he isn’t sure he knew he could.

Matt kisses him until his lips are sore, swollen, and then he kisses him some more, time fading against his tongue.

Eventually he tugs him gently towards the bed, and Aiden goes willingly, his clouded head nothing to do with alcohol, except Matt’s pushing down the sheets, kicking off his shoes and gesturing for Aiden to do the same.

Aiden gets in and waits, but Matt just kisses him once more and shuts his eyes, and Aiden-

Aiden has no idea what to do, doesn’t understand, but his frown is lost in the darkness.

 

+

 

The club’s more crowded than usual, the sound of the bass thrumming between the walls and the night’s intensity set too high as people grind and flail and sing along.

Aiden arrived with Liam and Louis but they disappeared to find Harry, Niall and Zayn, so now he’s fighting his way to the bar alone, and something’s not right - everything’s too relentless – and he should be expecting it but he’s not.

There’s a crash as bodies fall into the bar, and Aiden’s not near enough to collapse but he’s too close not to feel it as fists start swinging. There’s an elbow in his ribs, a foot connecting with his collarbone, and the screaming washes over him in waves as everything falls into chaos. 

He might be bleeding, or maybe it’s somebody else’s blood, but pushing towards the door is impossible, and he doesn’t know where the others are, hopes Zayn had convinced them all that listening from outside with an endless supply of cigarette’s was a good idea, and the music’s still playing, endless chords that only act as a trigger.

And then someone’s pulling his arm hard enough to hurt, dragging him towards the stage, and Aiden doesn’t realise it’s Matt until he’s being pushed over the speakers and out the back, through a door that objects loudly as Matt forces it open with one shoulder.

“You alright?” he asks as soon as the night air hits them, and his hands are on Aiden’s face, the pads of his thumbs running carefully over the bruises that are already forming.

“I’m fine,” Aiden says, even though it hurts to breathe. There’s still adrenaline pumping through his veins but even that’s beginning to wear off, and he can’t help the way his throat closes up as he chokes on air.

“Shit,” Matt says, and then he’s wrapping him in his arms, pulling him closer until Aiden’s face is buried in his neck, and Aiden holds on too tightly, fingers gripped in Matt’s t-shirt and pulling it out of shape.

“It’s okay,” Matt whispers against his ear. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

 

+

 

It takes Aiden a while to realise that he’s spent more time with Matt over the past weeks then he has with any of his friends, that the days don’t seem like such a chore because they’re followed by the nights which are full of music and dancing and Matt’s mouth on his. 

It’s terrifying.

He feels sick, his head full of too many thoughts and his stomach churning, and he has the feeling that it’s sounding more and more like love with every passing day, no matter how much he wishes it didn’t.

Love means the risk of being broken by another person, and Aiden doesn’t want that, _is scared of it_ , but that doesn’t mean he’s not falling anyway.

He spends more time at home, eats dinner with his parents while his dad ignores him and his mum pretends there isn’t a world outside of their front door, but all he can think about is Matt.

It’s too much, but Aiden’s always hated limits.

 

+

 

He’s not really surprised to run into Matt out of the blue; there are enough drugs left in his system that he wonders briefly if just _thinking_ about him made him appear, but Matt hasn’t seen him yet, is too busy talking to a beautiful girl wearing an expensive coat and pearls, her dark hair pulled back on her head neatly, their heads bent close.

Aiden stops and watches them for a moment until Matt leans forward and hugs her, the girl falling into his arms easily, and then he can’t look anymore.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, not really, but that doesn’t stop the way bile rises up in his throat.

There’s the sound of footsteps walking away, and Aiden waits a minute, tries to gather his thoughts and wishes he were completely sober so they wouldn’t run away from him. 

Then he puts on a smile, forces himself to make it as real as possible and walks Matt’s way.

When Matt’s face lights up at the sight of him he convinces himself it’s okay.

Aiden can be someone’s second best as long as that someone is Matt.

 

+

 

“Seriously,” Matt says, frowning as he pulls away from Aiden, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Aiden says, and leans in for another kiss, one hand sliding down the back of Matt’s jeans and the other twisting in his shirt.

“Aiden,” Matt says sternly, and he’s looking at him, eyes tinged with worry and a little annoyance, and Aiden can’t stand it, thought that if he was just enthusiastic enough that maybe, _maybe_ , Matt would realise that he’s enough, that’s he more than an experiment or a secret _please, please, please_ , but Matt’s straightening his arms, putting some distance between them, and it’s like a physical punch.

“Please,” Aiden says and it comes out choked and desperate and Matt’s eye widen in surprise.

“Talk to me,” he says, running fingers gently across Aiden’s arms, not realising that it’s _not helping_. 

He shakes his head, and Matt probably thinks he’s taken something, but his shaking is fraught and anxious, and Matt sighs, runs a hand through his hair and shushes him quietly.

 

+

 

Matt’s hands are gentle as they strip him down, the pads of his fingers leaving goosebumps on his skin, and Aiden arches into his touch. Their kisses are soft, sweet, and Matt mouths shapes into his neck, his chest, while Aiden lets himself drown in it, eyes shut tightly against any forming tears.

“I love you,” he says quietly when they’re rocking together, too close and not close enough, and Matt looks up, surprised, but Aiden kisses him before he can reply, pretending just for a moment that the next words out of his mouth were going to be _I love you too_.

 

+

 

He stops going out, spends his nights in front of the TV and doesn’t answer the raised eyebrows Liam sends him across the classroom. 

His mum looks surprised and happy when he helps her with the washing and the dinner, and he thinks it might be the first time in years they’ve had an actual conversation; he’s missed her more than he realised. His dad still mostly ignores him, dozing off in front of the TV or the radio, but he doesn’t throw out any jibes about his clothes or his hair or his taste in music so Aiden takes that as progress.

He’s picking up some bread for his mum on his way home from school, still in his fucking _uniform_ , when he runs into Matt, and quite literally at that. 

“Shit,” Matt says, leaning down to pick up the books that have spilt out of his bag, and then reeling when he realises who they belong to. “Aiden!”

“Hi,” Aiden says, feeling stupid and awkward and desperately missing the days when he didn’t give a damn about anything at all.

Matt looks like he has a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue and Aiden doesn’t blame him, especially when he disappeared off the face of the planet, but then the pretty girl with the pearls is there, laughing as she hands Aiden a pen that’s rolled down the aisle.

“Here,” she says, and Aiden hesitates as he takes it, staring at the floor.

“Oh,” Matt says, “Rebecca, this is Aiden.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Rebecca says, and she’s smiling at him knowingly, and that’s really, really not what he was expecting. “Matt’s told me a lot about you.”

“Um,” Aiden says, frowning, and Rebecca rolls her eyes.

“Let me guess,” she says kindly, “he hasn’t mentioned me at all? I’m Rebecca.”

“Becs and I grew up together,” Matt explains, and Aiden’s stomach is slowly beginning to drop towards his feet. “She moved back here a couple of months ago with her kids.”

“So you’re not together then?” Aiden says before he can stop himself, and _fuck_ , he really needs to gain some control over his brain to mouth functions. 

Matt frowns and Rebecca blinks before she starts laughing, sweet and not at all unkind.

“Oh sweetie,” she says, “no.” She hits Matt’s arms lightly and they seem to be having a conversation with their eyes before she hands Matt the basket in her hands and brushes off her coat. “I’m going to go. It was lovely meeting you Aiden and I hope to see you again _soon_.”

“You thought I-“ Matt says, shaking his head, “What?”

Aiden bites his lip, feels humiliated and ecstatic all at once, and can’t look Matt in the eye.

“You’re an idiot,” Matt says eventually, and Aiden nods because, _yeah_. “When you said you loved me,” he says after a moment, voice strangely shy, “did you mean it?”

“Yes,” Aiden says, because if there’s one thing in all this that’s even remotely true it’s that.

“Good,” Matt says, and Aiden looks up then, can see the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and the way his eyes are glittering, and his heart starts it’s own rhythm, fast and beautiful and like the very best night out. “I love you too, by the way.”

“Oh,” Aiden says, and he ignores the way he probably looks like an idiot smiling too widely in the middle of the vegetable aisle because Matt’s doing it too.


End file.
